


out of the rain (and into your arms)

by avalonjoan



Series: just two men driving ten hours to see each other because they're in love [1]
Category: Dreamer Trilogy - Maggie Stiefvater, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: But only a little, Call Down the Hawk Spoilers, Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lindenmere (Dreamer Trilogy), M/M, Rated for swearing, Sick Character, Sick Ronan Lynch, Sickfic, Sneezing, driving ten hours is adam's love language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27657085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avalonjoan/pseuds/avalonjoan
Summary: “Lynch.” The firmness in Adam’s voice stopped Ronan in his tracks. “I spent ten hours on the drive here thinking about getting to touch you. I haven’t seen you in a goddamn month. Roll over and I’ll hold you from behind so you can’t get your germs all over me.”“That’s not how it—”“I swear to god, Ronan.” Adam started to force his way onto the bed. “You’re not gonna win this.”---Ronan tries to ignore an illness by going to Lindenmere; Adam gets a feeling and drives to Virginia; Opal helps make dinner.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Series: just two men driving ten hours to see each other because they're in love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053233
Comments: 5
Kudos: 156





	out of the rain (and into your arms)

Things always felt better in Lindenmere. Physical or spiritual, whatever wounds Ronan had, lying beneath the trees was like a balm on them. He figured out pretty quickly that it didn’t actually fix the problem, but it was enough to be able to ignore the issue for a while. It was easier to wash gravel out of a cut when it didn’t cause searing pain to do it, and it was easier to sleep when his chest wasn’t tight from an all-consuming longing for Adam.

He didn’t go there right when he started feeling sick; he could still take care of things at the Barns even with a sore throat and wait to see how bad things were going to get. Two days later, his face started to hurt, his teeth aching from whatever the fuck was going on in his sinuses. When he woke up the following day completely unable to breathe through his nose, he decided that he’d had enough. He told Opal that he’d be gone for a bit but brought Chainsaw along; she hadn’t given him a choice in the matter, squawking at him and pecking at the window of the BMW until he let her in.

After resting and dreaming and exploring for a day or two--Ronan could never be sure how long he was there--he figured that he’d taken enough time to recuperate and would be able to tolerate venturing back into the real world. He left the magical forest for the real one and immediately reconsidered his decision. It was half-raining, the kind of misting weather that managed to make everything damp and cold and awful, and any lingering comfort from Lindenmere quickly faded. But Opal could only be trusted for so long on her own, and while sleeping in a field of sun-warm grass was wonderful, he was starting to yearn for the comfort of his own bed.

He was halfway to Singer’s Falls when his nose started running. Fuck. Somehow, he’d managed to return to reality just in time for the most annoying part of his cold. He sniffled, angrily rubbed at his nose with a gloved hand, and then his breath hitched before he buried a sneeze against his sleeve. He groaned and sniffled again. He thought about turning back, but didn’t.

Thank God Adam wouldn’t see him like this. He had two weeks before the other came home for winter break, and Ronan vowed to actually take care of himself in the meantime; he was not about to reunite with his boyfriend looking like an absolute mess. For tonight, taking care of himself would consist of a double-dose of Nyquil and passing out for twelve to sixteen hours, depending on what Opal and Chainsaw would allow. He stepped harder on the gas; home couldn’t come fast enough.

Operating on autopilot as he pulled into the driveway, Ronan had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting the motorcycle blocking his way. Shutting off the car, he stared at the bike, which was undeniably Adam’s, and then rested his head on the steering wheel. “What the fuck, Parrish?” he exhaled before pulling himself together and getting out of the car. With Chainsaw flying in circles around his head, he approached the front door, wiping his nose on his sleeve and hoping that somehow Adam hadn’t heard him come home.

Of course, he would have no such luck. Adam opened the door before Ronan reached the top step. He smiled, but his face fell as Ronan shouldered past him and stalked to the bathroom. Grabbing a handful of tissues, Ronan sneezed twice, just as Adam showed up in the doorway, looking more concerned than hurt now. He stepped toward Ronan, one arm outstretched, and Ronan quickly pulled back. “Don’t touch me,” he said, hating how his voice sounded, congested and scratchy. “I don’t want to give this to you.”

“Relax, Lynch.” Adam put his hands up, palms facing Ronan. “I’m not trying to make out with you; I want to see if you have a fucking fever.”

“Oh.” Ronan washed his hands and allowed Adam to press his palm to his forehead. When Adam brought his hand down, Ronan asked, “Well?”

Adam shook his head. “I don’t think so. You look like shit, though.”

“Thanks.” Looking in the mirror, Ronan couldn’t disagree. Everything in his face was just a little too pink: his lips, his nose, the rims of his eyes. Maybe Lindenmere hadn’t been as kind to him as he’d hoped. To Adam’s reflection, he asked, “Why are you here?”

With a breath of laughter, Adam shook his head. “You’re gonna think this is silly, but I just had a feeling that I should come home.”

“A feeling?” Ronan smirked, even though his heart warmed at Adam calling the Barns ‘home’. “Don’t you mean a vision or premonition or something a little more psychic-sounding?”

Adam rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I scryed into my coffee and saw that you were sick, asshole. It was really just a feeling. And clearly I was right. But,” he brought his fingertips to his temples and squinted, “I’m getting a vision now.” 

It was Ronan’s turn to roll his eyes, but truthfully, joking around with Adam was making him feel better already.

“I see you changing into something dry and relaxing on the couch while I make you dinner.” Grinning at Ronan, Adam jerked his head toward the door. “Go.”

Doing as he was told, Ronan went upstairs and peeled off his wet clothes, leaving them on the bathroom floor in his rush to get into the shower. After changing into sweatpants and one of Adam’s hoodies, he finished off the remaining Nyquil and went to the kitchen where Adam was chopping carrots. “Can I help?”

“No. Go rest.” Ronan was about to protest, but a glare from Adam was enough to shut him up. He went to the living room and lay on the couch, wrapped in one of the quilts that Aurora had made. He’d almost, maybe, fallen asleep when he heard the front door slam shut, followed by the sound of hooves on the wood floor. In an instant, Opal was kneeling beside him, shaking him by the shoulder.

“Kerah?” 

He shrugged her off. “Not now, Opal, I’m sick.”

“What’s that?”

He was about to answer when he heard Adam’s voice from the other room. “Opal, come here and help me with dinner.”

“But—”

“I’ll let you use the big knife.”

“Okay!” She jumped up and dashed into the kitchen. Ronan tried to yell to Adam that he was making a terrible mistake, but his voice was too rough to manage much of a shout. Saying a quick prayer for all of their safety, he closed his eyes and tugged the quilt closer around his shoulders. 

He must have actually fallen asleep this time because when he opened his eyes, Adam was setting two bowls on the coffee table, putting them down slowly as if trying to make as little noise as possible. Ronan cleared his throat to get Adam’s attention, and the other turned around, a fond smile on his face. “Hey,” he said, bending over Ronan and stroking his cheek, “How are you feeling?”

Ronan shrugged, pushing himself up on one arm. “Like I’m gonna go to bed after this.”

Helping him into a sitting position, Adam kissed the top of Ronan’s head. “Okay.” Handing him a bowl and spoon, he added, “Speaking of which. Opal was asking why people get sick, and then she told me you’ve been sleeping in your workroom for weeks.”

Ronan grunted and shook his head. “Ratted out by my own fucking kid.”

“You know it’s not the same when you’re trying to make things,” Adam went on. “It’s barely resting.”

With a sigh, Ronan nodded. Adam was right, but that didn’t change the fact that Ronan had things to do. He wasn’t dreaming just for fun; he was dreaming for Matthew now, and for Gansey still. He swallowed a mouthful of soup instead of responding. Adam didn’t seem to mind, and they slipped into comfortable silence as Ronan enjoyed both the food and the company. By the time he finished, the steam and the spices had started his nose running again, and he set his bowl on the table and reached for a tissue to blow his nose. Rubbing at his eyebrows after, trying to relieve the pressure building there, he looked to Adam. “That was good. All of Opal’s fingertips must have ended up in your bowl.”

“Ha ha.” Adam smiled and gently knocked his shoulder against Ronan’s. “I’ll have you know she was weirdly good with the knife. I’m not sure if I should be worried. But she ate all the scraps so I didn’t have to take anything to the compost pile.”

“Aw, daddy’s little helper.” 

“Hey,” Adam said, poking a finger to Ronan’s chest, “Do me a favor and never say that again.” For a second, Ronan was worried that he’d actually upset Adam, but then Adam was beaming at him, that beautiful smile that he’d missed so fucking much.

Ronan turned on the couch to face Adam and leaned forward to rest his head on the other’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly, “I mean, you should be studying for finals instead of driving all day to see me, but I—” he took a deep breath, emotion starting to rise in his chest, then repeated, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Putting his arms around Ronan, Adam rubbed his back with one hand and cupped the back of his head with the other. “I was thinking of coming home anyway,” he murmured, “There’s no classes because it’s reading period, and I missed you something awful. Next year you should come up for Thanksgiving.”

Next year. Ronan loved hearing Adam talk about a future where they were together, where they celebrated Thanksgiving with Adam’s school friends in some fancy brownstone and Christmas with Matthew and Declan at the Barns. Before Adam, he’d never been able to see any further than the end of each day, but now he saw his whole life laid out before him with Adam at his side. “How long are you staying?”

“My first final is on Tuesday, so I should probably head back early Monday.” Ronan couldn’t remember the last time they’d had three whole days together. Sure, he’d prefer that he not have to feel like death for the duration of it, but if it was the price he had to pay for time with Adam, he wouldn’t complain too much. Ronan sat up and Adam brushed his cheek with the back of his fingers. “You look exhausted.” Ronan nodded, leaning into Adam’s touch. “Go get ready for bed.”

Nodding again, Ronan stood and started toward the stairs as Adam brought their bowls back to the kitchen. By the time he finished brushing his teeth, Adam had already pulled back the blankets and set out a glass of water on the nightstand. Ronan lay down and let Adam tuck him in before saying softly, “I’m gonna miss you tonight.” Adam tilted his head in question. “You’re sure as hell not sleeping next to me.”

“I’m not going to sleep next to you,” Adam replied, “I’ll be on the floor.”

“What? No.”

“Why not? You used to sleep on my floor all the time.”

“That was different,” Ronan said. “You live here. Go sleep in Declan’s room.”

Adam slipped his hand into Ronan’s and squeezed. “Okay.” He smoothed his thumb over the back of Ronan’s hand for a few seconds, then asked, “Why did you used to do that, anyway?”

Shifting his grip so that their fingers were interlaced, Ronan let out a breath with a small smile. “Well, for starters, I had a huge crush on you. And you never told me to leave. And it guaranteed that you’d actually fucking sleep.” His expression changed, his gaze passing over Adam’s shoulder, and he spoke a little quieter, “I hated the idea leaving you all by yourself when I went back to Gansey and Noah.”

Adam looked sad, even with the small smile that formed on his lips. “I wish I’d known.”

“Yeah, well, I wish I didn’t wait forever to make a move on you.” He went to kiss Adam’s hand, but stopped. He’d never forgive himself if he got Adam sick, and he wasn’t going to take any chances. “It all worked out in the end.”

This time, Adam’s smile made it to his whole face. “Yeah. It did.” He took a deep breath and sighed it out. “Alright. You sleep, I’ll go clean up from dinner and then head to bed. Wake me up if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Seriously.”

“Geez, Parrish, I will.”

Adam disentangled his fingers from Ronan’s, pressed a kiss to his own palm, and then touched it to Ronan’s cheek. “Tamquam.”

“Alter idem.” Ronan closed his eyes and heard the door click shut behind Adam.

When he was a child, Ronan dreaded getting sick because it meant that more often than not, he would wake up surrounded in particularly terrifying and bizarre dream-things: a gelatinous serpent that slipped through his hands when he tried to grasp it, balloons that hovered out of reach and radiated unbearable heat down on him, a carpet that screamed when he stepped on it. Something changed as he got older, though, even before Kavinsky taught him how to control what he brought back; he didn’t dream at all when he wasn’t well. It didn’t really make sense, but he certainly didn’t object.

Ronan was particularly grateful for this when he woke up sometime in the middle of the night, unable to stop coughing; having to deal with some nightmare object on top of that would have been unbearable. He managed a few sips of water before it started again, and he curled in on himself, knees bent. His chest hurt. He missed Adam. For a moment, he felt the urge to cry welling in his throat and squeezed his eyes shut to fight it back.

Light from the hallway came in as the door opened, and disappeared as it shut. The mattress dipped beside him and there was a hand on his back. Just that touch was enough to make him whimper, a miserable, tired sound. “Adam?”

“Yeah.” Adam’s voice was close to Ronan’s ear. “I’m here.” Ronan tried to respond, but he only got out half a word before he started coughing again. He felt Adam’s hand disappear, and then saw the light in the bathroom turn on. Adam came back moments later and nudged Ronan’s shoulder. “Sit up.” Ronan did, scooting over to make room for Adam to sit beside him. “All you’ve got left is some cough syrup that's like, super expired.”

“Yeah, ‘cause no one lived here for years and I don’t get sick,” Ronan managed, reaching for the bottle. 

Adam raised an eyebrow while he poured Ronan a capful of the liquid and handed it to him. “Clearly.” 

Swallowing the too-sweet medicine, Ronan passed the cap back to Adam and took a sip of water. “Asshole. I don’t get sick  _ often _ . Better?”

“Yes.” Adam smoothed a hand over the stubble on Ronan’s head. “Now lie down and roll over.”

Ronan shook his head. “I told you—”

“Lynch.” The firmness in Adam’s voice stopped Ronan in his tracks. “I spent ten hours on the drive here thinking about getting to touch you. I haven’t seen you in a goddamn month. Roll over and I’ll hold you from behind so you can’t get your germs all over me.”

“That’s not how it—”

“I swear to god, Ronan.” Adam started to force his way onto the bed. “You’re not gonna win this.”

With a sigh that turned into a cough, Ronan lay down and closed his eyes. He felt Adam slide into bed, pressing himself against Ronan’s back and wrapping one arm around him. Slipping his hand under Ronan’s shirt, Adam rested his palm over Ronan’s heart. His breath was soft on the back of Ronan’s neck, and Ronan shivered when he spoke. “Sleep well.” Before he could respond, Ronan brought his arm up and stifled a sneeze against the back of his wrist, letting out a dismayed groan after. His head hurt. Adam kissed a spot right behind his ear. “Or at least try.”

Ronan nodded and inched backwards, trying to have as much contact with Adam as possible. “Do you still love me when I’m gross and sick?”

“I love you  _ because _ you’re gross.” Ronan could hear the smile in Adam’s tone. Adam held him a little tighter, the other’s hand warm on his skin. He knew it would be a few days before he felt well again, but if he got to spend those days with Adam’s arms around him and lips against his neck, Ronan was pretty sure he’d survive.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone made a post like 'Ronan and Adam would never call each other a pet name unironically, you all just read too much fanfiction' and I was like...okay, valid, but now I gotta write some tender shit without anyone calling anyone else 'babe'


End file.
